


The First Rule About Having Fun

by ScribeOfRemedy



Series: Spark from Tenebrae [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Puns, Coffee, Gen, Grocery Lists, Injury, Roleswap, Sass, Teasing, Teen Ignis Scientia, bookstore shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:23:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16625816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeOfRemedy/pseuds/ScribeOfRemedy
Summary: It seems Ignis is doomed to be dragged out after dark no matter what reality he’s in. Just what type of adventures did he and Aranea get into from right under the Empire’s nose all in the name of fun?Or a look at Ignis’ life after the Empire’s takeover of Tenebrae.Alternately titled Just Like Old Times, this is a Spark from Tenebrae AU oneshot and might be a tad confusing if you haven’t perused the original story.





	The First Rule About Having Fun

**Author's Note:**

> For those interested, this fic contains a 16-year-old Ignis and can be read as pre-Highspecs, or not, whatever floats your boat. The story is branching off from a roleswap AU where Ignis and Ravus are spending time in each other’s shoes. I have to credit Seventeen Magazine’s website for the quiz used, as well as several of my FFXV buddies for having hilarious conversations and lending me a hand whenever I got stuck. Thanks guys, I couldn’t have done it without you! 
> 
>  
> 
> For those returning from Spark from Tenebrae, thanks for coming back! I hope you enjoy this new addition to the series.

“Dare I ask if you even have a plan?” The brat managed to pack the question with an impressive amount of skepticism.

“Yeah, I have a plan.” Aranea was not about to admit otherwise to a teenager.

Far from convinced, the Tenebraen prince shot her a flat look. “Is it a good one?”

“I have a plan,” Aranea reaffirmed. It wasn’t even a complete lie. She had just thought of an idea listening to all the imperial soldiers marching down the halls from the small supply closet they’d holed up in to avoid the passing patrols. But all that armor was bulky and the kid was a bit of a beanpole, so the plan was a work in progress really. Well, it’s not the first time she’s had to improvise. She just needed to finish this text to Wedge.

“I am positively filled to the brim with confidence.” Dang, there was that sass the kid was already becoming famous for.

“Don’t tell me you’re chickenin’ out on me now?” Aranea looked down at the kid. She still had a few inches on the brat and planned to use every centimeter to her advantage.

From the way the kid’s face scrunched up in indignation behind the absurdly adorable glasses, Aranea figured she’d hit a nerve. “I am not _afraid_. However, I am not particularly thrilled with the consequences for being caught. I cannot afford to treat this like a game, nor can I set aside my suspicions for your inconceivably _charitable_ actions.”

_That ungrateful little_ … _Why am I doing this again?_ It certainly wasn’t that she felt sorry for the scrawny brat. Sob stories were a dime a dozen, and besides that, this was the type of guy who didn’t take well to being pitied. She wasn’t sure what the Empire wanted with this kid, but he must not have been playing along like a good little soldier boy. That’s the only reason they’d put a teenager on lockdown inside Zegnautus Keep. And who was Aranea not to encourage a little rebellion in an impressionable youth? Six knew the kid could stand to lighten up a little. And okay, she might have caught the brat looking something like an over-sized kicked puppy once or twice. He usually hid it well, but Aranea was betting it got lonely being cooped up in this facility every day, never seeing another friendly face. “Look kid –”

“Ignis,” he interrupted her. “My name is Ignis and I am not a child.”

Aranea couldn’t help but scoff. No matter how mature, Ignis was most definitely still a child. “What, no _Your Highness_? Almost feels like we’re pals.”

Ignis managed not to outright scowl at her, but it was a near thing. “I am no longer of royal station, to be referred to as such would be improper.”

_Wow._ It was like the kid didn’t know her at all. “Alright, _Ignis_ , I get that you don’t exactly have a lot of reason to be overly trusting but come on, you can’t honestly expect me to believe you aren’t ready to stab somebody for just a taste of freedom.”

Ignis was silent for a long moment, mulling over her words. “I still don’t understand your motives.”

Aranea groaned. This kid was going to be the death of her. “Haven’t you ever heard of fun?”

Some of the suspicion drained out of Ignis’ expression to make way for cautious fascination. “You believe sneaking me out of one of the most secure facilities in the Empire will be _fun_?”

“Oh boy, you’ve got so much to learn it isn’t even funny. Okay, first rule about having fun: doing something you’re not supposed to is always the most fun you’ll ever have, capish?” Aranea’s phone buzzed, notifying her that Wedge had replied to her message. Glancing down at the bright screen revealed that he had been successful, so she sent him further instructions. “Alright, Specs, meet Wedge in the old barracks on level three. He’ll get you out the door.”

“Specs?” Ignis seemed particularly put out by the nickname.

Grinning, Aranea leaned in close – very much invading the kid’s personal space – and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Suits you.”

She was rewarded with the most spectacular blush as Ignis floundered for a response. _Oh, this was going to be fun alright._

__________________________________________________

 

Biggs and Wedge brought the kid up to the overlook not far from Zegnautus Keep. They had snagged an unattended armor set for a disguise and thankfully Ignis was tall enough not to look like a child playing dress up, but the armor clanked noisily on his lanky frame. To make up for this, Biggs had found some supply crates that’d needed moving. The loose contents of the crates had been loud enough to cover the extra noise and allowed for them to inconspicuously bring a change of more casual clothing. Ignis now looked distinctly uncomfortable in a thin hoodie and ratty, dark wash jeans as he crossed his arms over his chest, unconsciously hugging himself. Something about the getup made him appear slightly vulnerable and insanely young. “It’s certainly not much to look at. Are there no better sights or is the whole area this dull?”

“Sorry, Specs. It’s not exactly Altissia but there’s plenty to do. See anything that grabs your fancy?” Gralea wasn’t much more than a glorified eyesore but there were a number of entertainment options to distract from the gloom. Aranea was curious to see what would interest Ignis.

The kid grumbled to himself quietly about her choice of address but soon focused on a small shop near the edge of the market district. “The Last Word.”

“The Last — wait, let me get this straight. This is your chance to go almost anywhere in the city, and you want to spend it in a book store? Not a bar or an arcade, but a _book store_?”

“Yes, I believe that will suffice.” Ignis was, of course, entirely serious.

Once inside The Last Word, Ignis became the most animated Aranea had ever seen him and that included the handful of times she’d spared with the kid. He was practically vibrating with energy, already tearing through the dingy shop’s limited merchandise. _Who knew the Prince of Tenebrae was such a book addict?_

While the kid was exploring every nook and cranny of the scant establishment, likely trying to figure out how many books he could feasibly spirit away back to the base, Aranea nonchalantly scanned the building. The shop was manned by an elderly woman who barely spared them more than a mumbled good evening before returning her full attention to the tomes spread out on the counter, otherwise they had the place to themselves. A signal towards her boys had both men instantly relaxing. Biggs kept an incredulous eye on their curiously ecstatic ward, and Wedge hummed to himself as he went about perusing the displayed literature. Well, if they were going to be here for a while she might as well look for something interesting. Aranea made to follow Wedge to the mystery section when a magazine caught her attention from the racks near the register. After closer inspection there was no denying it, that was Ignis’ face on the cover. “You got a side gig as a model or something, Four Eyes?”

Ignis paused in his thorough examination of the reference shelves long enough to give her a wary glance. “I’ve no idea what…” The kid froze, appearing close to panic at the sight of the thin periodical in her hand. “Where did you get that?”

Was that Aranea’s imagination or had Ignis’ voice risen a few octaves? She waved the latest copy of Teen Cosmogony toward the front of the shop. “Right over there, what’s the deal?”

Ignis did a marvelous impression of swallowing a lemon. “On occasion the Empire insists I participate in media sessions where I am often interviewed and photographed. Though, I had no knowledge I was still being included in such superfluous publications.”

Aranea found herself fascinated as she observed a dusting of pink spread over the teen’s pale skin while he averted his eyes in embarrassment. Never had she seen Ignis’ stoic mask crack so completely. Immediately, Aranea knew she’d stumbled upon her new favorite hobby. “And this bothers you?”

Ignis was struggling to regain his usual composure. He couldn’t seem to meet her eyes and instead kept his gaze zeroed in on some point over her right shoulder. “Such tabloids rely on young peoples’ body phobias and insecurities, not to mention the shameless product placement. I am not enthused in the least to be featured among such deplorable practices.”

“Oh, is that all?” Aranea fought to keep the mirth out of her voice. “So it has nothing to do with having your face blown up with a relatively seductive expression under the heading _He’s Got the Look_?”

“… It is rather disconcerting,” He mumbled out.

Aranea took note of his darkening blush. “Wow, you really don’t like being in the spotlight. You know, it may not be something you particularly want to be known for but it’s not really bad press.”

Ignis sighed. “You may have a point. Regardless, I wish they’d leave me out of these types of media fairs. I want no part of the Empire’s propaganda or the general public’s attentions.”

Dropping the topic for now, Aranea accompanied the teen back to the center of the small shop to continue his search while lazily flipping through the magazine’s features. She had to hide a devious smirk behind the glossy pages upon her discovery of the self-help section. “So, I’m gonna say it’s safe to assume you’re single.”

Ignis hesitated in pulling a thick, red hardcover free from an overcrowded shelf and eyed her suspiciously. “What does that have anything to do with?”

“I’m giving you this quiz to find out why you’re not out there hunting down the future Miss-Lady Nox Fleuret. Alright, let’s see here – ah, what does your ideal relationship involve? A. Old-fashioned romance. They’d sweep you off your feet! B. Effortless communication. You’d finish each other’s sentences. C. Lots of spontaneous adventures! Together, you two would have nonstop fun.” Aranea snorted. “Yeah, we all know how much you love nonstop fun.”

“You can’t possibly believe that rubbish.” Irritation bled into Ignis’ tone as he crossed his arms again. Aranea was beginning to suspect it was a nervous tick for the kid.

“Of course not, but it is mildly amusing so answer the question.” She thought Ignis might refuse to play along, but after a long moment of pointed silence the kid adopted a put-upon expression and indulged her resignedly.

“I believe option B would offer the most benefits in any prospective relationship.”

__________________________________________________

 

Ignis ended up bringing only three books to the counter: _Short Blade_ _Techniques_ , _Effective Ways to Down Enemies_ and _War: A Tactician’s History_. Aranea raised an eyebrow at the selections. “What, no _How to Hide a Body_?”

Ignis looked confused until he glanced down at his chosen purchases. A lighter version of the embarrassed blush from earlier in the evening made a reappearance across his features. “Admittedly, I had not considered how this might look at checkout. Regardless, I hardly think it will be an issue.”

“Uh, already know how you’re going to do it then? Well, just make sure you bury something a few feet on top of it.” Aranea nodded sagely, as if she’d just imparted the secrets of the Six.

“I beg your pardon.” Ignis regarded Aranea as you would one slightly unhinged.

“It’s gotta be sumtin’ dead though. A sabertusk would do.” Wedge materialized from the back of the shop to offer his input.

“I don’ know about that, mate. People’d wonder why ya would bury a sabertusk. S’not exactly commonplace,” Biggs critiqued from the bargain book pile.

Wedge shrugged. “I suppose a dog would work.”

“Oi! You’d kill a dog jus’ to save your own skin?”

Ignis kneaded the skin at the bridge of his nose. “Now we’re just digging ourselves a deeper grave.”

Aranea choked. “Wow, that was terrible.”

“Eh, Ignis, weren’t ya gonna get this one too? Saw ya starin’ all starry eyed at it earlier.” Biggs passed what looked to be a fantasy novel to the kid.

Ignis starred down at the book in surprise for a moment. It was fleeting, but Aranea was sure she saw a look of fondness in his eyes before he tried to hand the book back. “I’m afraid I no longer have the time to devote to such leisurely pursuits.”

Aranea crossed her arms without smushing her magazine. “You sure, Specs? Might be some time till we can come back, and you look like the type to breeze through three books pretty quickly.”

Seeing Ignis’ hesitation, Biggs pushed the book back toward the kid. “S’not like it’s trouble to smuggle in one more book.”

After another moment of indecision, Ignis nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled, I need coffee.” Aranea slipped the magazine in with their purchases.

__________________________________________________

 

For a moment Aranea thought Ignis was going to spit the Ebony right back into his chipped ceramic mug, but then the princely manners that had likely been ingrained in the kid since birth kicked in and he forcefully swallowed the bitter liquid. “That was less palatable than expected.”

Aranea shoved a couple of coffee creamers and pink sugar packets his way. “Here, try these. No need to drink your first Ebony black.”

Ignis frowned, but started tearing open one of the sugar packets. “This hardly seems a healthy practice.”

“Most people don’t exactly drink coffee for the health benefits,” Aranea commented with a shrug.

“Mos’ people drink it to stay among the livin’,” Wedge called out from across the table.

“That seems a tad dramatic.” Ignis eyed the steam rising from his Ebony dubiously.

Biggs chuckled into his espresso. “Aw, that’s jus’ cause you’re still a wee thing. Wait till you’ve aged up a bit and you’ll be hooked on tha stuff.” The man slid a mini lemon tart towards the kid to soften the blow to his young ego.

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Ignis huffed, eyeing the tart curiously. He spent all of thirty seconds coming to terms with the lack of silverware before giving in and picking up the dessert to bite into like a normal person. He hummed pleasantly at the taste. “I do wonder how they managed to get the meringue to this consistency. Perhaps they’ve beaten in a touch of cream? That would explain the mild offset to the lemon’s tang. It might be worth a try if I could get my hands on some sheep milk and the right type of sugar.”

“You cook?” Wedge’s eyes widened at the information. Baking wasn’t exactly your average sixteen-year-old’s hobby of choice.

Never one to profess being average, Ignis seemed completely unbothered by the man’s incredulity. “I wouldn’t say I’m an expert by any means, but yes, learning to feed myself has become a something of a necessity.”

Before the implications behind that fun little footnote could settle in, Biggs plowed right through with a proposition for the kid. “Say, Ignis, I’ve come inta some garulessa steaks. They’re good cuts, but I’m afraid I’ll just turn tha things to charcoal. Think you could do somethin’ with ‘em? There’d be a few steaks in it for ya.”

Ignis perked up at the proposal. “Certainly, just allow me the time to gather the proper ingredients for a marinade.”

“No, mate. Jus’ give me a list of what you need,” Biggs cut the kid off.

Aranea smiled as the conversation devolved into the creation of a particularly ambitious grocery list. Wedge quickly jumped in on the action with suggestions of his own, insisting on leiden peppers while Ignis remained adamant that aegir root and garlic would be crucial for the recipe he had in mind. Biggs agreed to the requests all too easily, scribbling down all the items on a spare napkin. At some point the man had developed an undeniable fondness for the Tenebraen, and it was evident in his teasing as he watched the kid force down more of the _unpalatable_ drink while listing out a few extra ingredients for the kid’s pantry. It was strange, she would have never pegged Biggs as the doting-on-kids type.

Deciding to think more on the matter later, Aranea turned her attention to Ignis. The kid looked like he’d zoned out, completely ignoring a jab about him having strongly refused to serve the steaks with ketchup. She was about to call out to get his attention when she noticed the café’s rundown radio was no longer playing the mainstream pop songs that tended to grate on her nerves. The repetitive music had been cut short by an overly enthused reporter.

“ _I’m here with Lady Lunafreya of Tenebrae at ground zero for the Galahd Reconstruction Project, and I must say, it’s an honor to meet the oracle in person.”_

“ _Please, you are too kind.”_

“ _I understand you plan to bless the residents of Galahd with your presence in the coming weeks. Is there anything you would like to say in light of the reconstruction efforts to those listening in?”_

“ _I only ask that they not hesitate to seek my aide. I know these are difficult times and my prayers go out to the families cast in disarray by the continuing conflict. It is my hope that they will be able to return to their lives without delay.”_

“ _We have received reports of remaining pockets of resistance actively attacking Imperial convoys in the area. Tell us, Lady Lunafreya, are you sure you want to offer healing so closely to such violence?”_

“ _Here is where I must be. My calling cannot be fulfilled safely behind protected walls. My duty is to those suffering in the hold of darkness wherever they may be found.”_

“ _Inspiring words from our brave oracle ladies and gentlemen. Remember you too can help the Empire’s cause. His Imperial Majesty is looking for good men and women to rise up and defend our glorious empire.”_

The brief interview was quickly brought to a close with details on how to support the Imperial Army and the annoying pop songs started up again as soon as the reporter signed off.

“What’s she like, Lady Lunafreya?” Biggs asked quietly when the kid didn’t stop staring at the old, wall-mounted radio.

Ignis blinked, startling a little when he realized he had lost some time. “Lunafreya? She’s, well, she is the kindest person I’ve ever known.” A small, warm smile slipped onto his face as he thought about how best to describe the girl he’d grownup alongside. “She is deceptively strong and quick witted. Unerringly patient, though, she can also be quite stubborn. She adores the outdoors and all things in nature. Sylleblossoms are her favorite. They never fail to bring a smile to her face even in the darkest of times.”

Aranea found listening to Ignis gush about his sister to be impossibly sweet. She was obviously missed. “She sounds like quite the gal.”

Ignis nodded solemnly. “She is exceptional.”

Biggs cleared his throat. “You’ll have’ta introduce us sometime.”

Ignis made a show of considering the idea. “Oh, most assuredly. I’m certain Lunafreya would be eager to meet you all.”

Unfortunately, their plans for an audience with the oracle were cut short by a sudden commotion outside. A loud crash shook the small café, rattling the mugs on the tables and loosening dust from the rafters.

“What tha heck is goin’ on out there?” Wedge questioned as they all pushed away from the table in alarm.

Aranea was the first to the door and found a mob of goblins terrorizing the city, the little daemons chasing down pedestrians and ripping apart a car that had been run off the road. She held her arm out to block Ignis from leaving the café. “Alright, Specs, field trip's over. Get back to the Keep, stick to the shadows and remember you were never here.”

Ignis glared up at her heatedly. “You can’t expect me to abandon endangered civilians. You’ve seen me in combat, allow me to assist you.”

“I’ve seen you in training spars. You’re unarmed and those are real daemons out there.” Ignis didn’t back down. He raised his chin defiantly, standing tall as his adolescent frame would allow and not appearing the least inclined to seeing sense, but Aranea didn’t fancy having the kid’s death on her conscience. “You said it yourself, you can’t afford to get caught. You don’t think this incident will grab the higher ups’ notice? Imperial soldiers will be here in no time wondering what the oracle’s brother is doing running around the city in the middle of a daemon attack. We don’t have time for the noble prince routine. You want to help the civilians? Then scram and let the adults handle this one.” She left the kid looking stricken at the door and made for the largest group of goblins. “Biggs, Wedge, on me!”

“You got it, Lady A!” Wedge ran right behind her into the frantic crowd, gun at the ready. Biggs was a beat behind, having given Ignis one last look before hurrying after them.

Aranea may have been missing her armor, but she was still able to summon her lance with a burst of red magic and launch it at the nearest goblin. The strike hit home and the little terrors scattered, fleeing down the various side streets. It was going to take time to track them all down weaving through the fleeing masses like this.

_Where had these things even come from?_ Gralea was usually protected from daemon attacks, the powerful lights outside the city’s perimeter were more than enough to deter the monsters of the night from invading. So how had these little devils gotten inside? Aranea spun in place as she cornered another of the goblins, skewering the small daemon with a precise and fluid thrust of her lance and twisted around to hunt down the next before the nuisance had even evaporated into the shadows.

It was tough going. Biggs and Wedge could hardly get a clear shot for all the people scrambling to get to safety, but the crowd was thinning. Before long the streets would be nearly deserted. Aranea took down another twenty goblins before they ran into something bigger prowling in the night. At first glance it looked like a coeurl, but it was most definitely not a coeurl – at least not anymore. The large cat-like creature was almost skeletal in its build with actual fragments of sharp bone jutting out at from its shoulders and along its spine. What had likely once been a highly sought after, spotted coat was now matted and falling out in chunks, leaving behind sparse, dark patches of mangy fur. A large portion of the daemon’s face appeared to be melting, exposing metallic jaws and slipping down the beast’s snarling muzzle in a sickly, black sludge. The sight of it sparked the memory of an acquisition update report carried out several months prior.

Aranea readied her lance. Coeurls were extremely dangerous and knowing her luck this mutated monstrosity was likely to be even worse. But her plans to attack the creature were put on hold by a blood-curdling scream. A small girl covered in dirt and grim came barreling through what had once been the exterior wall of a condemned building at the other end of the block with no less than four goblins hot on her tail. The girl tripped on an exposed pipe jutting out of the rubble and scrapped her knees against the rough concrete on the way down, tumbling out into the street and curling into a tight ball as the goblins closed in.

Growling in frustration, Aranea realized she wasn’t going to be able to get to the girl in time, especially with the larger daemon blocking the road. “Biggs, Wedge, can one of you make the shot?”

Wedge brought up his scope. “‘Fraid it’s not gonna be easy, Lady A. Daemons are too close, at this distance I might hit tha girl.”

Biggs grit his teeth. “There must be somethin’ we can do.”

“Keep trying, I’m going to make a run for it!” Aranea leapt to the rooftops, hoping to avoid the larger daemon altogether, and started running. She knew it was still going to be a longshot. The daemons were nearly on the girl already. She was going to be lucky if there was anything left of that kid by the time she got there. The crack of a bullet rang out and Aranea watched one of the goblins fall to ground and dissolve several feet from the girl. _Two rooftops down, six more to go._ Another two shots sounded off, but none of the daemons were hit. She was over the mutated coeurl now. Having heard the gunfire, it was looking back at her men with interest. _Dang it, just a little closer._

The first goblin reached the girl and made to sink it’s claws into her flesh but the strike never landed. The daemon was stopped dead by a small blade hurled right between its eyes. Someone shrouded by a hood burst from the cover of a nearby alley and jumped up to pant both their feet solidly in the face of one of the goblins before using the creature as a springboard. The stranger back flipped away from the dazed creature and dodged around the remaining daemon’s claws before punting it clear across the street.

Recognizing the Assassin’s Creed logo on the back of the old, black hoodie Wedge had lent Ignis for his disguise, Aranea cursed loudly. The kid had balls, she’d give him that, but soldiers would be swarming the area to handle the situation any minute now. They needed to get moving if they wanted to keep Ignis’ presence outside the Keep a secret. Worse still, the mutated coeurl that had been stalking Aranea and her men now turned its very unwanted attention to the new arrivals. “Specs, you better run!”

She watched Ignis turn to the little girl and make to gather her into his arms just as the mutated coeurl charged. Aranea jumped high, using the boost from her magitek lance and twirling the weapon into position with an impressive midair pirouette in preparation for her signature dragoon dive, but the coeurl was fast. Her strike ended up grazing the monster on its left flank, barely piercing the unusually tough hide and nicking the bone plating. The creature yowled terribly all the same, its whiskers sparking to life with a killing current Aranea knew could stop a heart instantly. She had seconds to spring away. Ice gathered in her veins when she realized Ignis and the girl weren’t out of range. “Ignis, get out of there!”

Ignis clutched the girl to his chest and ran but it was too little too late. The blast was different, more explosive than a normal coeurl’s, throwing Ignis off his feet and forcefully flinging him and the girl inside the condemned building. The whole edifice was structurally unsound and the impact sent them both crashing straight through the dilapidated floor boards, falling down into a basement below what’s left of the building.

The mutated coeurl coils its gaunt body, preparing to lung after its prey. But Aranea came in for another strike, interrupting the motion and scoring the creature along its right side this time. “Not if I have anything to say about it, Gruesome!”

The big cat spun around trying to catch Aranea on its claws, but was knocked off balance by a barrage of bullets courtesy of Biggs and Wedge. The two men had taken up position across from the collapsing building, and were yelling to distract the mutated coeurl.

“We’ve got this, Lady A!”

“Aye, go an’ save those kids!”

Aranea frowned. The monster was already back on its feet, and assessing the new threat. She didn’t like the idea of leaving this to Biggs and Wedge. She was about to say as much when MTs arrived on the scene, targeting the mutated coeurl with non-lethal stun guns. That wasn’t normal procedure, Aranea realized belatedly. _They’re trying to capture this thing alive._

Still, this was a distraction she couldn’t afford to waste. She signaled Biggs and Wedge to stand down before taking her chance and sprinting to the condemned building. There was a section of the floor missing near the collapsed wall and she slid down the steep incline created by the fallen debris, splashing in ankle-deep, murky water when she reached the bottom. She strained her eyes to focus in the dark room and spotted Ignis backed against the furthest wall by a small gang of goblins and imps. He held another dagger he’d seemingly pulled out of nowhere and was brandishing the weapon at the daemons, trying to keep them away, but his stance was off. As Aranea closed the distance between them she noticed Ignis was hunched over a bit, favoring his ribs. There was a gash on his forehead oozing blood all down the left side of his face and forcing the kid to close one eye to keep the blood out. Hopefully the head wound was superficial. Potions could handle cuts and busted ribs, but a concussion would complicate matters. The little girl was pressed against his back, flush with the wall behind them. She screamed every time Ignis lashed out at the daemons who got too close. The noise only served to entice the dark creatures and they rushed the children, going in for the kill. Aranea had other ideas.

Despite the relatively low ceiling, she was able to channel her energy into a forward lunge and crossed the room in seconds, impaling several of the small daemons on her lance. She swung her weapon around in a devastating arch and knocked back the remaining daemons. “Specs, I thought I told you to get back to the base.”

The kid deftly caught and crushed the potion she lobbed in his direction. He hissed when the magic started work on his injuries. “Ah, would it set your mind at ease at all to know I was never unarmed?”

Aranea tore into an imp attempting to claw at her boots. “It would have set my mind at ease if you had gotten your princely ass out of here. Honestly, you’re giving me grey hairs here.”

Ignis was astute enough not to comment on her natural hair color as he dug his dagger into the last goblin. “And here I thought my actions met up perfectly with your definition of fun.”

Reminded of the carefree intentions behind tonight’s venture as well as the absurdly deadly turn of events, Aranea couldn’t help but scoff. Things had decidedly not gone as planned. “Oh, and are you having fun?”

“Oodles,” Ignis replied before crouching down to address the girl with a gentle tone that both surprised and impressed Aranea. “It’s alright, you’re safe now. Can you tell me if you’re hurt?”

Now that the basement was cleared of daemons, Aranea could really look at Ignis and the little urchin still clinging to his borrowed hoodie like a particularly tenacious limpet. The girl had coppery, red hair and didn’t quite come up to Ignis’ waist. She nodded timidly to the inquiry, but the still bleeding scrapes on her knees were very visible.

“Give her this,” Aranea offered when the girl shrunk back at her approach. She waited for Ignis to administer the potion. “Hey, your head okay? Looks like you took a nasty fall.”

Ignis scrubbed at the blood left behind by the magically cured cut. “Perfectly fine, was but a scratch.”

Aranea was more relieved by the admission than she’d care to admit but now wasn’t the time to take it easy. The building shifted ominously around them. “We need a new exit. MT’s are above us.”

“There seems to be some sort of service entrance still standing over there.” After lifting the girl onto his back, Ignis pointed out an empty elevator shaft letting in a thin stream of moonlight from the back corner of the basement. Further inspection revealed the space to be clear enough to squeeze through. Together they were able to climb to the surface before discreetly dropping off the child at her home and rendezvousing with Biggs and Wedge.

__________________________________________________

 

Zegnautus Keep could be seen from anywhere in Gralea. It’s imposing towers dominated the landscape and cast long shadows over the city. The base was one of the Empire’s crowning achievements, home to thousands of military personnel, a massive army of MTs, a high security prison as well as a well-funded research and development branch. Ignis stared up at the foreboding, dark spires, calculating. “Do you ever wonder what happens to the daemons you capture?”

Aranea stopped walking and gave the kid a hard look over her shoulder. She’d hoped Ignis wouldn’t put it together so quickly. “I try not to think about it too much.”

Biggs and Wedge also stopped, looking uncomfortable with the topic.

“I see.” Ignis didn’t make any accusations, but his eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth hooked downward in a displeased scowl.

What could she say? The Empire was expanding the list of things it wanted to rip apart and put back together again, while more and more biological weapons kept popping up. Despite the showy military titles, Aranea and her men were merely pawns on the Empire's payroll. They couldn't stop the Empire from experimenting on daemons any more than she could shanghai the captive prince far away from this entire mess. Outside of the foreign walls of Insomnia the Empire was law. Getting on their bad side was as good as a death sentence. “Listen, Specs, what we saw tonight wasn’t pretty, but you won’t help anybody by developing an ulcer over it. My advice, keep your head down and don’t go dwelling on problems you can’t fix.”

Ignis’ shoulders tensed, rising up closer to his ears. “A tad difficult to ignore when it’s happening practically down the hall.”

“Don’t be naive. You think you could put a stop to the whole shebang all on your lonesome? Even if you blew the keep sky high the Empire has labs hidden all over Eos.” Aranea watched as some of the fight drained out of the kid at the new information. “Point is, you’ve got to think smarter, Specs. You’ve got one behemoth of a job ahead of you if you ever plan on getting out from under the Empire’s magnifying glass long enough to do anything more meaningful than grab an Ebony.”

“For now, it would seem there is some wisdom to your words.” Ignis finally looked away from the Keep, his eyes meeting hers. “My thanks, Commodore.”

“Nope, no, stop right there. It’s Aranea, unless you want to go back to being called kid.” Aranea planted her hands on her hips and winked at Ignis.

The kid turned away quickly, failing to hide a building blush. “Aranea then. The three of you took impressive risks to see me out of the keep for the night. No matter the consequences, I’m glad I went with you all.”

Biggs slapped Ignis on the back. “Our pleasure, mate.”

Wedge hefted their haul from The Last Word higher under his arm. “Hafta’ have another jaunt sometime. Maybe a different venue, tho’.”

Aranea slung an arm over the teen’s shoulders. “My thoughts exactly, so next time I’m thinking we take the airship for a spin. If I’m feeling generous I might even let you take the wheel, Four Eyes.”

She almost pulled away when Ignis’ whole frame froze up at the unexpected contact, but the moment passed and he smiled along with the ex-mercenaries. “Capital idea. What could possibly go wrong?”

“That’s the spirit, Specs.” Slowly Ignis relaxed under Aranea’s lead, and she found herself actually considering finding out if the kid would wreck her custom airship on his first flight. _Huh, Maybe Biggs wasn’t the only one growing a little fond of the brat._


End file.
